Across the Dimentions
by Bookworm1978
Summary: This begins at the end of the episode names Post Traumatic Slide Syndrome, where they leave supposedly with the right Professor. But there are many fans who believe that it was not the right character. I wrote this to show what might have happened if this was true. How far would Professor Maximillian Arturo go to find his friends?
1. Chapter 1

"Oh no. What did they do? What...what do I do?" A man stood on a lawn, in front of a rambling house, looking more than a little lost. He looked devastated and infuriated. "Those fools! Those morons! Those bumbling buffoons! Those-those-oh, when I find them I'm going to…!"  
He sighed and stared into an empty space of air, where a blinding, swirling portal of light was mere seconds ago. "Those witless fools. What is that...that charlatan going to do to them? It would be like sending the fox to guard the proverbial henhouse!"

Professor Maximillian Arturo sighed deeply and shook his head, his round shoulders slumped. "How can I even begin to find them? To save them from the other me? How can I even begin? And what do I do without them?"

Quinn's, this earth's Quinn's device was still here. But the chance of getting it running again, to say nothing of finding them to warn them, of even finding the right them in order to warn them...He walked slowly to the gate and started to open it. Then he paused in thought. "It is impossible. It cannot be done. But what kind of friend would I be if I didn't even try?"

He stood there a moment, torn between what he should do. Then he straightened his back, and turning, started purposefully toward the front door.


	2. Chapter 2

"I think it is almost ready."

"Righteous!"

"Will you kindly refrain from your continuous assault on the English language?!"

"Woah, I am sensing some seriously negative vibes from you, man."

"Really, why do you think that is?"

"Duuuude, just chill."

"Do not tell me to 'chill', you blistering idiot!"

"This blistering idiot, like, totally helped you get this thingamabob to work, Professor."

"And for that, I am grateful. But it does not keep you from being one of the biggest annoyances in the history of mankind."

The two fell into a cold silence, as they tinkered on the last few details of getting slider device working. It had been a rather difficult month. The only person that the professor managed to be even moderately helpful, and the two had been bickering since day one. But both were willing to admit before the first week was over that, whatever the personality differences, the other knew intellectually what was needed to get the slider device to work. Somewhat. Neither of them was Quinn.

Maxamillion had pored over every note that was left behind, meticulously went over every detail of the diagrams, and watched each video blog several times over, before even tackling with his own theories. He combed the house for even the least-likely clue. He wrote pages of his own notes, and, putting his amazing mind to the task, had several rather brilliant theories by the end of the first month. Some of them even panned out.

Conrad just stared at it for an hour, then went home. Two hours later, with a rather powerful smell about him, he would produce a page or two of sloppily-written notes that somehow sounded legit, and then would poke at the inner workings for a while, while Arturo would then rant at his complete lack of theory. Then begrudgingly added his notes to the pile of his own notes. Much as it bothered him to admit that Conrad had even a sliver of a hope of being right. Surprisingly, he often was. He just didn't seem to care that much for the science behind this in theory of course. He just seemed mostly to get rid of Arturo.

It took no less than ten months. Ten long, grinding months of work and bickering. Ten long, nearly sleepless night. Well, one of them slept better than the other. And neither ate by the end of that unless a certain mother by the name of Elizabeth managed to get them to choke down a bite. And she has a great deal of practice at getting preoccupied geniuses to eat, one way or another.

Conrad, in the end, decided to stay and continue working on the theories of his own. Max left as soon as it was safe to do so. But both made one slight miscalculation. The original device kept the sliders in San Francisco, but because of some faulty wiring that they overlooked, this was no longer the situation. Nor did it keep to the same time anymore. And Professor Arturo first realized this fact when he found himself in...but that is for another chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey, Beez."

"Hey, yourself."

"Look over there."

"Where?"

"To the right."

"My right or you're right?"

"There you...do you see that guy over there?"

"The one in the dusty suit?"

"Yeah. What's he doing here?"

"Um, tent by tent salesman?"

"Oh, you're a riot."

"Yup, that's me. A laugh a second."

The two paused, as they continued to watch a strange fat man wander around in front of the mess tent, with a look on his face that could only be considered lost. B.J. tilted his head to the side, and took a sip of coffee, before making a wry face, distracted by the taste.

Hawkeye, however, was not so easily distracted. "Seriously, he looks a little long in the tooth to be a soldier," he said, after watching a minute longer. "Yeah, not dressed right either. Reporter maybe?"

"You don't think they sent us another doctor, do you?"

"Nah, Potter would have said something before now."

"Maybe he was sent to the wrong mash unit?"

"Wouldn't be the first time. Think we should go ask him why he's here?"

"What? And ruin all this wonderful mystery."

"You are nothing but compassionate."

"Hee hee." They continued watching him, as he wove unsteadily past some nurses. Then glanced around quickly, and darted behind a tent, blocking himself from view.

Hawkeye groaned. "Well, now what are we going to do for entertainment?" "Follow him, Mr. Holmes?"

"An Excellent notion, Dr. Watson."


	4. Chapter 4

Potter was in his office, enjoying a rare moment of perfect peace and calm. He had had an enjoyable, uneventful morning so far. No brush with an irate Winchester. No brush with a Klinger bucking for a one-way ticket to Toledo. No complaints about Hawkeye's, well, Hawkeye. Nothing more disagreeable than mucking his mare's stable out. And for an old calvary man, well, that is not very disagreeable. But the mucking did help him in a completely unexpected manner. Looking back, he should have known that the day was headed straight toward him stepping in one big steaming horse apple.

He was about to unfold the paper, mug in hand, when the door to his office burst open, and two green blurs burst in. One was leaning over his desk before he had time to put his coffee cup down, the other leaning over the first one's shoulder. Both was jawing so hard that he couldn't hear either for the other's jawing.

Potter stood slowly, as the two yammered, and gestured wildly. He tugged on his shirt uniform, a way he had to pause and gather his thoughts enough to take stock of a potentially stressful situation. He took a deep breath and was able to focus enough to recognize that the two was Hawkeye and Hunnicut. And something had put a bee in their collective bonnet in the worst way.

"Shut it!" He bellowed, glaring the two down until they clammed up. B.J. straightened, and rumpled his hair as he stomped away from the desk, in a way that bothered Potter more than he cared to admit. B.J. was almost always as cool as the proverbial cucumber, and to see him this rumpled in mind was distracting to say the least. Hawkeye, however, was a bit more normal-looking when he was keyed up. The boy had what Potter called a rablerouser spirit. He never seemed as happy as when he was disrupting order and telling command what they could go do with themselves. Hawkeye glaced back at B.J., who glanced back. The taller man shrugged at some unspoken comment, and threw his hands up. Hawkeye nodded slightly, then turned back and stared at potter grimly.

"I think I might have to cut drinking for good." he said, looking as serious as a judge, and twice as grim.

"Hear hear." Came tall stack B.J. as he continued pacing.

"But we, Beez and me, We never seen anything like what we just seen. I know you are never going to beleive this in a million years, but unless we both started halusinateing at the same time, then it's got to be real, right?"

"What are you two going on about?" Potter asked, his brow furrowing in thought as he listened. "I can understand what you are saying now, but you're still not making a bit of sense."

"Well, you see, it's like this.."

"Tell em, Hawk."

"I'm trying to! It's like this. We saw some strange guy when we were in the Mess tent."

"Yeah. Maybe it was food poisoning."

"What? Oh, not from there. It has to be a little fresher to poison us. Anyway, there was this guy wandering around outside. I pointed him out to Beez here."

"Yeah, he was a strange sight."

"Suit, looking a little worse for wear."

"Beard, older middle-aged face."

"Kind of looked like Winchester, come to think of it."

"Yeah, actually. He did make me think of old baked beans."

"Yeah, what he said. And he ducked quickly behind Margret's tent. Well, then we were thinking tht maybe he was one of Hot lips's old friends."

"Not me, I don't have that kind of dirty mind."

"Can it, and we followed. We, well, he had some box thing in his hands, and as we came around the tent, he sort of pointed it."

"Just right into the space between the tents, you know?

"He knows. Anyway, a beam of...of light left the box. And formed this...this light circle that...would you say it hung in the air, Beez?"

"Yeah, yeah. That sounds about right."

"He seemed to know that we were there, because he glanced back at us, flapped his arm and said with Winchester's accent to clear out. Then he jumped in and vanished!"

"Just pop. Gone. I still can't believe it."

"It was...It was just unbelieveable. And we both went near it, and it just, it just fizzled out. Gone! Just like that!"

"Like smoke."

"More like a lightening flash."

"Whichever."

"I swear, we are not making this up! I know this sounds fantastical."

"Well, that is one way to put it."

"But it really happened. I kidd you not!"

Potter listened as the two gave the baffling and somewhat incoherient report from the two doctors he would, under normal cercumstances trust in a heartbeat with even the most difficult of cases, and shook his head. Finally, as the stream of words dried up, he shook his head slowly, and looked at the men as though he had never seen them before."Either you are going squerl crazy." He declaired at last. "Or this is one desperate petition for shore leave. I think a call to Sidney would not be amiss, either way."

"Oh so you do think we are crazy?" Hawkeye demanded, frowning angrily.

Potter just stared at him, as he picked up the phone. "Wouldn't you?" he asked.

"If someone came up with a cock-n-bull tale like that? I know I would." B.J. said from the frame where he now leaned.

Potter was glad to see the leaning. It meant that he was calming down some. But Hawkeye just seemed even more on edge that ever. He had taking up the pacing that B.J. had left off, his steps short, quick and angry. But then again, his movements was usually either short and quick, or slow and lounging with little in between.

"Look, I don't see why we have to see Freedman about this. We are sane, it's just the story that is crazy! I mean, come on! When did we lie to you?"

"Not your best arguement, Hawk."

"Quiet, this is serious. Potter, I know what I saw!"

"And I am sure you believe you and B.J. are telling the truth." Potter said, as kindly as he seemed to know how, as he dialed. "that is exactly what is worrying me.


End file.
